29: Kobe's halftime lesson

The break ended, and the second quarter began.

Lin Feng stepped back onto the court, the dull ache in his ribs still present, but he had completely adapted.

He adjusted his breathing, his gaze even more focused than in the first quarter.

Lakers' offense.

Lin Feng no longer simply ran aimlessly over long distances as he had in the first quarter.

He began to try out some of the footwork techniques Kobe had taught him in the past few days.

Beyond the three-point line, he received a pass from Nash. This was his first touch in the second quarter.

Matt Barnes instantly stuck to him, his chest against Lin Feng's back, arms spread out like a large net.

Lin Feng lowered his center of gravity, using his left foot as an axis, and took a probing step to the right, feigning a breakthrough.

At the same time, his shoulders swayed in coordination, trying to fool Barnes.

This was what Kobe taught him: using footwork and subtle body movements to create shooting space.

However, Barnes was like an experienced bulldog.

He didn't fall for Lin Feng's fake moves at all.

His lower body was as steady as a rock, his feet not moving an inch, only using stronger physical confrontation to disrupt Lin Feng's balance.

"Is that all you've got, rookie?"

Barnes's voice rang in his ear.

Lin Feng ignored him, quickly retracted his steps, and followed with a back spin.

The movement was fluid.

But the moment he turned, Barnes's omnipresent arm wrapped around him and slapped fiercely at the basketball in his hands.

"Slap!"

The basketball slipped out of his grasp!

Lin Feng's heart sank, and he immediately turned to retrieve it.

But it was too late.

Another Clippers player had already gained possession and immediately passed it to Chris Paul.

Another fast break, the Clippers' favorite!

"Get back on defense!" Nash yelled.

But the Clippers' offense was too fast.

Paul dribbled like the wind, and before the Lakers' defense could set, he had already reached the free-throw line.

DeAndre Jordan in the paint moved up, blocking the trailing Kaman.

Paul didn't look at the hoop; with a flick of his wrist, he made a brilliant bounce pass.

The ball threaded through the defenders and found its way to Blake Griffin, who was cutting on the other side.

Griffin caught the ball, took a step, and soared into the air.

"Boom!"

Another tomahawk dunk!

In the Staples Center, the cheers from the Clippers fans were deafening.

At the commentary desk, Barkley shook his head.

"Lin Feng is too eager to solve problems with skill, but he's facing Matt Barnes."

"Players like Barnes don't care how good your technique is; he'll just use the most primitive physical confrontation to destroy you."

On the court, Lin Feng watched Barnes, who was retreating on defense, provocatively lift his chin at him.

In the following few possessions, Lin Feng fell into an even deeper quagmire.

He tried to drive, but Barnes's physical confrontation prevented him from even taking the first step.

He tried to run off-ball, but Barnes used even fiercer entanglement and more small fouls to wear him down.

Midway through the second quarter.

A Lakers' offensive possession.

Lin Feng held the ball at the right 45-degree angle, with little time left on the shot clock.

He looked at Barnes, who refused to yield an inch, gritted his teeth, and decided to force a drive!

He suddenly dipped his shoulder, using all his strength to squeeze towards the paint.

He created half a step of space!

But just as he burst into the paint, a dark shadow lunged from the side.

DeAndre Jordan!

The Clippers' center abandoned his defensive assignment, Gasol, and came over to help.

He and Barnes formed a perfect trap defense!

"Bang!"

Lin Feng felt like he had run into a wall.

DeAndre Jordan's large, fanning hand came down hard, swatting the basketball out of his hands.

The ball flew out and landed in Chris Paul's hands again.

Another identical fast break.

Paul assisted Griffin, who once again performed an alley-oop dunk.

The point differential was stretched to double digits.

"Lin Feng is completely shut down!"

"The Clippers' defensive strategy against him is too successful. Barnes's one-on-one defense, coupled with Jordan's help defense, has left him helpless."

Online, discussions about this game had erupted.

"LOL, Barnes is really teaching him a lesson!"

"Where's that Chinese kid? Where's his three-pointer? Why does he fold under pressure?"

"I told you, he's just a lucky shooter. He got lucky in the preseason, but in the regular season, he's back to his true form."

"Soft! What else can he do besides shoot? He's like a baby when he's guarded closely."

Insults and doubts poured in from all directions.

The first half was nearing its end.

The Lakers' last possession.

Lin Feng fought with all his might and finally found a sliver of space in the left corner during a chaotic scramble.

Nash's pass arrived just in time.

Barnes frantically lunged at him again.

Lin Feng had no time to think; he caught the ball and shot.

His body twisted into an incredible angle in the air, and relying on his strong core strength and muscle memory, he threw the ball out.

The basketball arced incredibly high.

"Swish!"

A clean swish!

Another difficult three-pointer!

But this basket felt more like a futile struggle.

The buzzer sounded, ending the first half.

On the scoreboard, it was 52 to 62.

The Lakers were trailing the Clippers by 10 points.

Lin Feng propped his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

In the first half, he had only scored 6 points.

Two miraculous shots.

Other than that, he had made no offensive contributions and even had two crucial turnovers.

He dragged his heavy steps towards the players' tunnel.

At the tunnel entrance, Barnes was waiting for him.

"Six points in a half, lucky you, kid."

Barnes patted his shoulder with a smile.

"In the second half, I won't let you score a single point."

Lin Feng didn't look at him and walked straight past.

In the Lakers' locker room, the atmosphere was terribly oppressive.

The players were dejected, towels covering their heads, no one speaking.

Only Nick Young's complaints broke the silence.

"Fxxk! Are the referees blind?"

"Every move that Barnes guy made was a foul! He almost just hugged Lin!"

"How are we supposed to play like this?"

Several veterans also chimed in, complaining about the referees' officiating.

Coach D'Antoni stood in front of the tactical board, his face ashen, not saying a word.

The entire locker room was filled with an atmosphere of defeat and frustration.

Just then, the locker room door was pushed open.

Kobe, dressed in a sharp suit, walked in.

Despite his injured left foot, he still carried a powerful aura as he walked.

The locker room instantly fell silent.

Everyone's complaints ceased abruptly.

Kobe didn't look at anyone; he walked directly to Lin Feng.

Lin Feng was sitting on a chair, wiping sweat from his face with a towel. He looked up at Kobe.

Everyone held their breath, awaiting the black mamba's wrath.

They thought Kobe would scold Lin Feng for his terrible performance in the first half.

However, Kobe simply looked at him calmly and spoke.

His voice was low, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears.

"He's provoking you because he wants you to play at his pace."

"He uses trash talk, small fouls, and brutal collisions because he wants to get under your skin, he wants you to get physical with him."

Kobe's gaze was sharp.

"But that's his territory, not yours."

Lin Feng was stunned.

Kobe continued, "You tried to use footwork to get past him, tried back spins, tried to force a drive. You were challenging him at what he does best, using his methods."

"And the result?"

Lin Feng was silent.

The result was turnovers, steals, and blocks.

In the locker room, everyone listened quietly.

Kobe didn't stop; he posed a question.

"What is your weapon?"

Lin Feng almost instinctively replied, "Shooting."

Kobe shook his head.

"No."

His voice was decisive.

"It's the 'threat' of shooting."

"Your weapon is the threat that makes your opponent afraid to give you even an inch of space. Why is Barnes sticking to you like a mad dog? Because he's afraid of your three-pointer."

"He's afraid, so he puts all his energy into physical confrontation."

"And you, you foolishly walked right into the trap he set for you."

Kobe leaned down and whispered into Lin Feng's ear.

"Use your basketball IQ to defeat him, not your fists, or your immature footwork."

"Make him pay for his own defensive strategy."

These few words were like a flash of lightning, clearing the fog in Lin Feng's mind.

The 'threat' of shooting... defeating him with basketball IQ... he suddenly understood.

He understood.

He completely understood Kobe's meaning.

In the first half, he was led by Barnes's pace, solely focused on how to shake him off and score against him.

He had gotten caught in a personal battle with Barnes.

And Kobe had enlightened him.

The true weapon wasn't making the shot, but making the opponent fear the 'possibility' of you making that shot.

Lin Feng looked up, the confusion in his eyes swept away, replaced by an unprecedented clarity and calmness.

He looked at Kobe and nodded solemnly.

In the second half, he would show Matt Barnes what it meant to be too clever by half.